My Body, Everyone’s Opinion

In “Throwing Like a Girl,” Iris Marion Young defines femininity as “a set of structures and conditions which delimit the typical situation of being a woman in particular society as well as the typcial way in which this situation is lived by the women themselves.”

Read more: My Body, Everyone’s Opinion

I really began to think about how femininity is shaped by structures and conditions, but also how women in various cultures may experience and utilize these conditions. I also began to think about my experience as a skinny black girl and how my body is viewed and discussed based on the audiences age. I was stuck in between two expectations. My younger peers would make comments about growing my glutes to achieve the “slim thick” figure. At the same time, older women will tell me to enjoy my skinniness (as if there was a timer on my body) because the day was coming when I’d be in their position; Reminiscing of the slimness they once had. Both comments are different, but they both make me think about how my body is being measured against expectation of how a woman’s body should look like. I question the root of where did the expectations come from and at what point did they change? The ideas of what a black woman is supposed to look like has influenced how I see my own body. To the point where I start to ask myself, “well which side of the spectrum should I strive to be on?”

Young’s definition helped me see that these experiences are not just a desire to look a certain way. It is a larger social condition that is shaped by what other think black women’s bodies should look like. The pressure to be “thick,” gain weight, and enjoy my body before it changes all shows how femininity can shape the way women understand and experience their own bodies.

image used from: https://www.123rf.com/photo_88636296_set-of-female-body-shape-types-five-types-african-american-women-vector-cartoon-illustration.html

Looking Good and Surviving the Struggle

As a Black woman, I feel like I’m always pushing myself to do better whether it’s excelling in school, handling multiple jobs, or meeting life’s demands. But along with all of this, society expects me to stay strong, composed, and, above all, to “look good” no matter the circumstances. “Being Black and Looking Good While Chronically Ill” reminded me of how “looking good” often makes people overlook the emotional struggle behind the polished surface. While I don’t have a chronic illness, I can definitely relate to the pressure of presenting a flawless image for everyone else’s comfort. The burden of “looking good” isn’t just about appearance, it’s about hiding our real selves. We’re expected to show up as perfect versions of ourselves, and anything less risks being judged or dismissed. The emotional toll this takes is real. It’s draining to keep up a facade of strength when, inside, I’m just trying to survive like everyone else. I sometimes wonder: If I let my guard down and show my vulnerable side, will people still see me as capable? Or will they think I’m less valuable because I no longer fit the image they’re comfortable with?

The pressure to always be strong is exhausting. In “You Are Not Entitled to Our Deaths”, the author talks about how society demands marginalized people, especially Black women, to sacrifice their own needs for the comfort of others. This really resonated with me because I’ve felt that exact pressure to hold it all together, no matter how much it costs me. But through these readings, I’m starting to realize that real strength doesn’t mean hiding my true self. It’s about showing both my resilience and vulnerability. Let’s stop pretending to be perfect. True strength lies in embracing both our power and our humanity—because we are enough, exactly as we are. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to stop pretending for others and start living for ourselves.